Second Anniversary
by D.F. Twinkie
Summary: Each of the characters reflects on the current state of Castle and Beckett's relationship. Co-written by fialka62, sarastar43, JillianCasey, kiki39, Wig257, DefenderofHelplessSemicolons, Cartographical and Jane0904. Will be updated throughout the day.
1. Esposito

**Title:** Second Anniversary  
**Author:** dftwinkie (individual authors listed in the chapters)  
**Rating:** T (mostly PG but one has a few swears)  
**Spoilers:** All aired episodes  
**Disclaimer:** They are not ours, we just love them

**Esposito**

"Okay, here's the thing I don't get." Javier leans back against the counter, watching Lanie clean up for the night. "How could two people who obviously like each other still be in that much denial?"

Across the room, the ME has her head buried in a cabinet full of supplies and sharp objects, but Javier can still hear her acerbic snort.

"You got that right. They've been working together for what—a year and a half?—and they're still floating down that river in Egypt." She heaves a sigh and emerges with a spray bottle. "I've lost so much money on those two."

Javier smirks and fingers the book in his pocket. He's just updated Lanie's guesses for the Beckett/Castle hook-up pool (May 16th, for the record). That and the case file in his other hand are his ostensible reasons for visiting. His real reason is disinfecting a table at the moment and looking pretty damn hot, even in shapeless scrubs.

Lanie continues, "Obviously Beckett doesn't completely trust Castle yet. He's changed, though."

"More to him than meets the eye."

"Exactly. And I have also told her—more than once—what meets the eye is pretty damn fine. Why not go for it, see what happens? " Lanie sighs. "Our Beckett, though ... she's gotta see what'll happen _before_ it happens."

"Thought a girl sometimes likes all that spontaneous stuff."

Lanie tilts her head at him. "Sometimes she wants to be sure about things first. And you can't always be sure about Castle. Equal-opportunity flirter, that one."

Javier nods, looks down for a moment, then locks eyes with her. "If it was me? Wouldn't be having that problem."

From the subtle way Lanie goes still, she knows they aren't talking about Javier's undying love for Kate Beckett.

He smiles into the silence and half-salutes her with the file. "Dr. Parish."

"Detective."

He saunters off, feeling her eyes on him the whole way.

He and Lanie have been flirting as long as they'd known each other. It's been nothing serious, just something to pass the time at crime scenes and in the morgue. But during the last year, Javier has started thinking about making some changes in his personal life. His latest hook-ups have seemed like they were missing something. (Not sex. No problems there.)

Castle has been his inspiration, or rather his example of what not to do and how not to do it. Javier remembers the Demming and Gina fiasco early last summer all too clearly, as well as the oblivious way Castle returned to shadowing Beckett in the fall. All year, he's seen them reconnect as they built theory, then drift away to pretend to be happy with other people. There have been coded looks and conversations with undercurrents. He's noticed all the tiny ways Beckett opens herself to Castle and the hesitant way Castle pursues Beckett, but nothing that's produced any forward momentum. Javier supposes that some people would view this as an epic love story: one person who is taking so long to open up she may have missed her chance; another who hides behind being an open book.

Sometimes it all seems like such fucking bullshit.

He's sad for both of them. Well, more for Beckett, because that girl deserves some happiness in her life, something more than just a nice guy.

Javier will be damned if he'll let the same thing happen to him. Or to Lanie.

_Author: DefenderofHelplessSemicolons  
_


	2. Lanie

**Lanie**

Lanie is half asleep and more than half naked when Javier's phone starts braying.

"Sorry, sorry!" he says, voice slurred with sleep, as he lurches out of bed. The sheet tangles around his calf, which ends with him only just catching himself on the dresser and a rush of cool air on her skin as the covers pool on the floor.

He haphazardly flings the comforter over her with one hand (she yanks it up to her chin, glaring), and thumbs on his phone with the other.

"Esposito," he says. He glances at his watch. "Beckett, it's after midnight. On a _Friday_. I'm -" He stops abruptly and glances at Lanie. "No." A brief pause. "Yes." His shoulders slump with resignation. He reaches for a pen and, after fumbling for something to write on, ends up scrawling across his forearm as Lanie watches in disgust. He makes tiny noises of affirmation as he writes before finally placing the pen down with a sigh. "Yes, Beckett. I'll see you at six. I hope you're bringing coffee."

He tosses the phone down, eyes his ink-covered forearm critically, shrugs, and flops down next to Lanie, making a half-hearted effort to straighten the sheets. "Sorry," he mutters again, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Lanie closes her eyes, sighs, and opens them again. She's awake now. She glances at the clock, rolls over to stare at him. "Tell me Beckett wasn't calling you at twelve thirty-two in the morning to ask you to run something for a case. Isn't she with Josh?"

Javier rolls his eyes. "He's had a string of night shifts."

"And you're next on the list? What about Castle?"

"I don't know when his plane lands. He was in LA."

"Why?"

"Some movie thing, I don't know."

She sighs. "Maybe Beckett should have gone with him. She needs a break."

"Don't start," Javier warns. "Last thing she needs to do is run off to the beach with Castle."

Lanie reaches over, trails her index finger along his shoulder. "Why's that?"

"Look," he says, suddenly shifting to serious. "The last time Beckett was with a perfectly nice guy, I put my two cents in for Castle and wound up working fourteen-hour days all summer and getting snapped at every time I breathed sideways."

Lanie mentally translates the cop speak: _I contributed to Beckett getting hurt, it felt awful, hell if I ever do it again. _It's sweet, in its roundabout way, but it doesn't mean she won't push him.

She trails her finger a little lower onto his chest. "You don't think they've changed since then? That we've all changed?"

"Do you?" he asks.

She opens her mouth to answer but is stopped by the memory of the last conversation she had with Castle.

_There was something different about them, Lanie decided as she neatly placed her scalpel next to the semi-bludgeoned body on the table. The change wasn't anything she could pinpoint, exactly, just the way his eyes flicked over Beckett, his gaze a little more searching, a little more intent._

_When Beckett's phone rang and she stepped out to the hallway to answer it, Castle kept his eyes on her for a beat longer than he used to._

_Lanie was smirking as he turned back to her. "What?" he asked. She kept smirking. "What?"_

_"You guys finally get around to sleeping together?" she asked, figuring if she was going to get something out of anyone without spending half her paycheck on margaritas, she should concentrate her energy on Castle and launch a full-on assault._

_"What? No!"_

_"'Cause the way you're staring at her…"_

_"I have no idea what you are talking about." Considering the source, the defense was a little too abrupt and a little too vehement._

_"Well, something's different."_

_"New shampoo."_

_"Castle." She moved her hand back toward the scalpel. Castle caught her hint and twitched._

_"I just bought this jacket. And Beckett has new shoes."_

_"Sex," Lanie said, baiting. "S. E. X."_

_"Don't be ridiculous, Lanie. We on—" he cut himself off before he could even finish the word, but the damage was done._

_"You only what, Castle?"_

_"I cannot believe I fell for that," he huffed, glaring. "You should consider a career upstairs if you get sick of cutting up dead people."_

_"Spill. And fast, or Beckett will get back and you'll have to explain yourself."_

_"There's nothing to spill! We were undercover."_

_"At the club?" She smiled wolfishly. Javier had told her about the little black number Beckett was wearing when she'd walked Osminkowski out of the bar and to their patrol car. "With the"—she traced an hourglass shape in the air with her palms—"dress?"_

_Castle threw his hands into the air. "No!"_

_"Did you dance for your cover? Bump and grind?" _

_"What—"_

_"Did you grope in the dark?"_

_"Lanie!"_

_"Did your lips get a little close? Did they accidentally brush?"_

_He didn't manage to hide a wince and a quick glance at the floor. "Hah!" she said, pointing at him. "You guys made out!"_

_He pauses. "A little."_

_"With her in the dress?"_

_"No." He paused, shifting uncomfortably before continuing. "When we had to save Ryan and Esposito. To distract a guard."_

_She had expected to see any number of different emotions on his face when Richard Castle inevitably, eventually talked about kissing Kate Beckett. Two years ago, she would have expected self-congratulatory pride; last year, she would have expected vibrant happiness. Now, she sees a well of feeling in him, a quiet seriousness that she never would have expected from the man who had long ago chattered at her over a drowned girl in a room filled with light and the scent of chlorine. _

_It was hard to tease him with that look on his face. "Just a casual undercover kiss between friends?"_

_He swallowed. Before he could answer,_ _Beckett breezed back into the room. They both startled guiltily. "Ryan got a lead – Henson was doing his regular morning route, but he checked in half an hour before… What?" _

_Lanie realized she'd been staring fixedly at her friend, and a quick glance at Castle told her he was doing the same. "Nothing," Castle said, a little too abruptly._

_Beckett tilted her head, the shadow of a quizzical smile quirking across her lips. "Ooo-kay." She nudged Castle with her elbow. "Gotta go. We'll catch up with you later, Lanie."_

_Lanie waited for Castle to whirl around and make a vaguely threatening _keep silent_ gesture at her as the pair left the room. But he didn't. His eyes never left Beckett._

"I don't know," Lanie answers as the memory of Beckett and Castle walking away from the closing morgue doors fades. "A lot's happened since then."

"He's been around two years now," Esposito says. "Things are bound to evolve."

"And?"

He shakes his head. "We can't push them."

She can see a shadow of her own affectionate frustration with both of them mirrored in his expression. Castle was ready until Beckett was and then he wasn't, and now he's back to ready again and she's teetering where she was a year ago but with an even greater tangle of feelings.

"She'll get there again," Lanie says.

"Didn't say she wouldn't. Gonna move my date up in the pool."

She quirks an eyebrow. "You think?"

"Why, what's your bet? You got inside info? I know you share all kinds of feelings with Beckett." He perks, narrows his eyes shrewdly as he props himself up. Lanie admires the solid line of his shoulder.

"Feelings?" she repeats.

"You know. Girl feelings."

"With Beckett."

He deflates. She reaches over and pats him condescendingly on his bicep. Her fingers tap up to his firm deltoid, and the pat turns into a stroke.

"Maybe," he says, eyeing her in the way that he knows makes her stomach turn molten, "we should be doing something more constructive than speculating on when Castle and Beckett might get it on."

"Your alarm's going off in four and a half hours," she warns as he runs a thumb along her clavicle. She can't quite suppress a small shiver. "And you know Beckett never actually gets coffee anymore."

He shakes his head sadly while his index finger traces figure-eights over her sternum. "I'm so glad Castle'll be back tomorrow." He pauses briefly. "Never tell Beckett I said that. She'll mock me for mooning over my absent boyfriend."

"Make it worth my while to keep my mouth shut," she purrs.

He does.

_Author: Cartographical_


	3. Alexis

**Alexis**

Alexis flew into the loft and slammed the door, startling her father, who poked his head out from his study.

"Hey pumpkin, everything okay? I thought you were going out with Ash after school."

She dropped her bookbag by the couch, almost tripping on the suitcase her dad hadn't bothered to unpack yet, and began ransacking the kitchen cabinets. She needed chocolate. Did they have any of those delicious brownies left, or had Dad eaten them all? "I was. But boys are morons, so I'm going to Kelsey's instead. Is it okay if I spend the night?" She found the brownies but there were only a few left. Maybe ice cream would be better. They had some Ben and Jerry's in the freezer, but it might not transport real well.

"Of course. Do I need to kick Ashley's butt? I could sic Beckett on him if you want."

Alexis smiled at him. "Thank you, but no. Ash isn't the problem." She decided on the brownies, and the remains of the box of chocolate Ash had given her for Valentine's day. Better take those out of the heart box before she brought them to Kelsey's, though. "You know how excited Kelsey was when she got in Early Decision to Wellesley? Well, Shaun's just decided that he's going to Texas A&M, where his father went." She dumped the chocolates in a plastic bag and put them on the counter with the brownies, then headed upstairs to pack a bag, her dad trailing along behind.

"So she's upset because he'll be so far away? That's too bad. Their cell phone bills are going to skyrocket, I bet. Besides, they'll both be back in the city for vacations; it'll work out."

Alexis threw some clothes in her overnight bag and dashed into the bathroom to grab her toothbrush, nearly knocking her father down in the process. "No, Dad, you don't understand, it's not going to work out because boys are morons."

"Oh, right, I forgot that bit. Guess the relationship is doomed, then."

Alexis rolled her eyes. "Shaun dumped her, Dad. Told her he wanted to go to Remy's after school to celebrate getting into college and then dumped her before their burgers even arrived. Said he didn't want to be tied down, that college was a place for exploration and he needed to be free."

Her dad followed her back downstairs and opened the freezer. "Geez, what a slimebag. Here, you'd better take the Fossil Fuel too, nothing like chocolate dinosaurs to cheer a girl up. I don't think being an idiot is a crime, but I could ask – maybe Beckett would arrest Shaun anyway."

Alexis threw her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. He could be a goofball, but he really was the best dad in the world. "Thanks, Dad. Do you realize that they'd been dating for two years? Ash and I have barely been dating six months and we've already decided that we're going to try and make it work, no matter where we go to school. I mean, we all thought that Shaun and Kelsey were going to get married some day, they were so perfect for each other. Except apparently they weren't."

"Wow, two years. And in teenager-time? That's practically forever."

"I know, right?" Alexis shook her head, grabbed her bag and the snacks and headed for the door. "Bye Dad! I'll catch a ride to school with Kels in the morning."

"Okay, sweetie. I'll see you tomorrow at Gram's move-in, then."

Alexis sighed as she waited for the elevator. She had no idea what was going to happen in two years, but she hoped she'd still be with Ash by then. But two years really was a long time. Even for grownups – it was longer than either of her dad's marriages, at any rate. Not that she thought either her mom or Gina were cut out for long-term relationships. She thought her dad might be ready, though. Of course, his last 'stable' relationship had been with Gina again, so it didn't really seem like his track record or his taste were improving any.

Although, it occurred to her, it had been about two years that Dad had been shadowing Detective Beckett. So maybe there was hope for him, after all.

_Author: sarastar43_


	4. Castle

**Castle**

"Two years."

"What?"

"Two years. We've been partners for two years." Rick Castle held on for dear life to the door handle as Kate Beckett threw the car into a skidding swerve around a woman pushing a shopping cart filled with all her possessions, avoiding her by less than a foot and eliciting a shaken fist and stream of abuse that disappeared into the distance as quickly as it was spat.

"Really?" Kate glanced across at him, almost giving him a heart attack as she took her eyes off the road for the second it took her to add, "You want to bring that up now?"

"I made a reservation at _Antonelli's_. Eight o'clock."

Kate trod on the brakes and Rick felt the seatbelt tighten painfully across his chest, pushing the air out of his lungs until he felt he must be gasping like a landed fish, then he was thrust back into the seat as she gunned the engine again. "I hope you enjoy the food," she said, concentrating on the chase once more.

"For us. A reservation for us. No holds barred. Whatever you want." He rubbed his pecs, knowing he was going to end up with spectacular bruises he'd rather forget. Although, come to think of it, maybe he should take photos – Jameson Rook could be involved in a car chase, perhaps driving to the rescue of Nikki Heat. He smiled slightly, then braced himself with straight legs as they took a sharp left across traffic.

"What I want is to catch this son of a bitch," Kate ground out, steering into the skid and coming out under total control.

The truck ahead, its contents probably as uncomfortable as Rick but entirely more vocal about it, was demonstrably closer now, and Kate's face lit with a sort of demonic grin.

This was what she lived for, he knew. Well, not exactly this, not the dicing with death every inch of the way as they raced up 6th Avenue, but the chasing of the bad guys. The thrill of checking the evidence, understanding the how and the why, and eventually the who.

And he loved to be there at her side. He loved using his imagination to look at things from a different angle, making her question her assumptions. He loved seeing the satisfaction on her face as she read the perp their rights, knowing the case was airtight. He loved …

The car mounted the curb, avoiding a red light and tossing him and his thoughts about.

He had to admit it. His mother was right. Not that he was going to confess it to anyone else, not even if threatened with a team of wild horses and a branding iron, but it wasn't about the books any more. He had enough material for a dozen Nikki Heats ... more ... and yet he couldn't say goodbye. Besides, there'd been that kiss: no matter that they'd been in the middle of rescuing Ryan and Esposito, Kate could have slapped his face at any point after for taking a liberty like that, but she hadn't. She hadn't mentioned it either, but in his book that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

In truth, so much had happened over the past twelve months, and not just in his own life. Gina had come and gone – again – leaving little more than a sad taste in his mouth, while his mother had been proposed to, almost engaged and sort of widowed in the space of just a few days, ending up a millionairess with delusions of grandeur, or at least of being a grande dame of the theatre. Then Alexis with her boyfriend, Ryan and Jenny's impending nuptials, Esposito and Lanie ...

And this list didn't even include saving New York from the scum of the 'verse, but he was trying not to think of that, since every time he did he had flashbacks of tugging a handful of wires as a counter tripped to 00:00, and if he was going to go down that route too often he'd really need to buy some more shorts. No, better to stick with the mundane, the normal, the people, and admit it was all about relationships, as he'd come to realise in the wee small hours of one Sunday morning, nursing a hangover from a bottle of rather good red wine in celebration of finally figuring out what the next book was going to be called. All about relationships.

And his relationship with the woman who was even now wrenching the car back onto the road?

Ah, therein lay the rub. It had changed, evolved, with less of the ear-pulling (well, sometimes) and more of the trust, the understanding, the closeness that he hoped was going to continue to develop. And if it didn't? If this was it, and there was nothing more? His lips curved. Nah. That he couldn't believe. Even if she finally gave into her initial urge to shoot him, he could think of worse ways to go. And while they were still alive and kicking his eternal optimism and good humour was all he needed to hope for the best.

In front of them the truck had turned right, and they followed just in time to see it swerve first one way then the other, the taillights flashing as the driver tried desperately to rectify his mistake. But he lost the fight as the vehicle mounted the sidewalk, barely avoiding a pretzel cart, and slammed through the window of a store in mist of shattered glass, disappearing entirely into the interior like an illusionist completing a particularly extravagant magic trick.

Slewing the car to a halt, Kate was out in a moment, Rick a second behind her as the paper banner announcing OPENING TODAY fluttered to the ground amidst the broken vases and crockery.

"Oops," Rick said, following Kate in through the demolished window. "Sorry about this," he added to the woman standing behind the counter at the back of the deceptively deep shop, her jaw dropped to her chest, shock written in very large letters across her face as the truck's engine still revved, although it wasn't going anywhere.

"Stay back," Kate ordered, stepping over the debris. She had her gun drawn, but as she approached the cab of the truck it became obvious she didn't need it. The driver was slumped over the steering column, and he was moaning quietly. Still, it was with care that she reached inside and switched off the engine, in the same movement grabbing the man's wrist and slapping her cuffs on him. The other end she snapped around the wheel before reaching into his jacket and removing the revolver, saying as she did so, "John Keeble, you're under arrest for the murder of Jeanette Keeble. You have the right to remain silent – or, in your case, mostly unconscious – and when you finally recover you have the right to an attorney." She leaned closer. "Don't worry – I'll say it again when you can hear. Can't have you walking on a technicality."

"Nicely done," Rick said, smiling and making a mental note to try and find somewhere to fit that into _Heat Rises_.

"Thanks." She jumped down from the running board, her knees slightly bent as she absorbed the impact. She turned to the shopkeeper. "NYPD," she said, holding up her badge. "Homicide."

The woman was still unable to form a single word, although her mouth was working furiously, her hands beginning to flap as if she could shoo them all back outside.

Kate shrugged slightly, then headed towards the remains of the window, intending to call for back-up and an ambulance, but as she reached the rear of the truck there was a grinding sound.

"Watch out!" Rick grabbed her and swung her out of the way as the ramp at the back dropped with an ear-ringing clang, accompanied by the sound of yet more china being smashed to smithereens.

"Thanks," she said, looking into his eyes, then something still inside the truck grunted. Something big. Something that was pawing at the floor. Something that was coming down the ramp, heavy foetid breath billowing from huge nostrils. Something that would probably be far too interested in anything that had the temerity to move ...

Rick swallowed, his arms still around his partner but not in the mood to enjoy it. "Beckett ..."

"Yes, Castle?"

"Will you think any the less of me if I say we should get the hell out of here?"

"In this particular case I think I might forgive you. But ... how?"

"I'm working on it."

The shopkeeper finally regained the use of her legs, yelped and disappeared through a back door, attracting the attention of the ridiculously enormous black bull for a few crucial seconds and giving Rick and Kate the time they needed to make a swift exit back into the street.

From the sounds inside the shop the bull was making his displeasure known by taking it out on the stock.

Rick leaned against the wall and tried to look nonchalant as he waited for his heart beat to return to normal. "That was ... bracing."

"One way of putting it." Kate's eyes were wide as she shook her head.

"I ... uh ... suggest we call Ryan and Esposito," he added.

"You think?"

"They'll know what to do."

"Really."

"Really. After all, it's only a –" He stopped, but only because she was standing on his foot, her hand pressed across his mouth.

"You finish that sentence and you won't be seeing our two year and _one_ _day_ anniversary."

He wanted to lick her palm, to see if his memory of their kiss equated with the taste of her skin, but decided it was better to resist the impulse and enjoy it later, no matter how long it took. Instead he just grinned, and was gratified to see her lips twitch.

_Author: Jane0904_


	5. Martha

**Martha**

_Well_, Martha Rodgers thought, _this is it_.

She surveyed the lobby of the new Martha Rodgers School of Acting with a feeling of satisfaction. The place was hers. It would flourish or fail on the choices and decisions she would make. It was a terrifying and exhilarating thought.

The only things still missing—

She was interrupted from her internal checklist by the sound of her granddaughter.

"Dad! Watch out for the..." Martha heard the sound of scuffling and cursing and then a big bang.

Martha's ragtag team of movers, composed of family and friends, had spent the past hour helping her move the last personal touches into her new school. She wanted to see all the time and hard work come together with her family—and those who had been adopted into the Rodgers-Castle fold. But perhaps it might have been safer if she had kept the hired movers around, just in case.

She hurried through the lobby door to the stairway, swinging the door open in time to see her granddaughter doubled over in giggles, and her son sprawled over the steps, rubbing his head as Detective Beckett leaned over him with a grin.

"Richard! What on earth happened? Are you okay? You didn't break Chet, did you?"

Richard Castle blinked slowly before looking away from the smiling detective above him. He craned his neck back towards Martha. "Why, Mother, your concern is touching" he said dryly.

"It's okay, Ma'am. Detective Beckett and I managed to keep Chet- I mean the portrait from falling," Ashley piped up from behind Beckett.

Beckett and Alexis held out a hand to Richard and pulled him up. "Back to work, Castle. No slacking," Beckett told him.

Richard grinned back at her. "But, Beckett, I'm hurt." He thrust up his free arm, showing her his skinned, red elbow.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I think you need to kiss it better before I can continue my slave labor in stoic, yet heroic silence."

Alexis shook her head and pulled away from her father. Kate looked to be seriously considering his words.

Martha held her breath; something had shifted between her son and the detective in the past few months. She wanted to see her son happy and Beckett seemed to play an integral role in that. But right now she was with that heart doctor, although Martha had a feeling (call it woman's intuition) that that relationship might not have a long-term future in it. She hoped to see a time-and soon-when Richard and Detective Beckett finally took a romantic chance on each other. Otherwise she'd have to start drinking more. rofl

Beckett leaned towards Richard's extended elbow, examining it closely and looking prepared to kiss it after all. "Nope, looks fine to me," she teased before turning away.

Richard let out a dramatic sigh before picking up the painting. "Mother, the things I do for you." He winked at her as he walked past carrying one side of Chet's portrait and Ashley the other. Alexis and Kate followed with the flowers.

They manoeuvred Chet into the lobby with Martha directing where to hold up the portrait. She had three potential locations, unsure where exactly to place it.

"Mother, these manly arms of ours aren't going to hold out much longer if you don't make up your mind," Richard complained. "Don't say it, Beckett," he added upon hearing her huff of laughter.

The three women stood together contemplating the last location. "I think I like it best above the sitting chairs," Martha decided finally.

Richard groaned as he and Ashley lowered the portrait to the floor. Ashley shot a pleading look to Alexis.

"I agree, Grams. Detective Beckett?"

Kate furrowed her brows, biting her lip as she considered. "Above the chairs, especially if we move the big potted plant by the door and put it to the left behind the armchair."

Martha grabbed both women's hands and squeezed a silent thank you. "Perfect." She said. "Boys, you can leave Chet against the wall there. I'll have someone come in tomorrow and hang it."

Then she stepped behind the receptionist's desk and pulled out a bottle of Saint Regis and some plastic champagne flutes. "Don't worry, dear," she reassured a worried looking Alexis. "It's non-alcoholic."

Martha sat back with her champagne in her hand and a feeling of contentment in her heart. So much had changed in just over two years—since she'd moved back to Richard's (to help care for Alexis, of course). She watched her beautiful, smitten granddaughter listen to a story her boyfriend was telling them; something about that creepy pet rat of his. How quickly she was growing up. It wasn't very long ago that Martha and Richard had taken her shopping for her first prom dress.

Two years ago there had been no Martha Rodgers School of Acting, or Chet, or even a strong relationship with her son. She had been nearly broke and planning to leave the acting world, maybe spend some time in London. And now, here she was: the school already had positive buzz and she had a few brilliant ideas for advertisement during Richard's big scholarship fundraiser gala for Beckett's mother.

Beckett glanced at her phone and stood up abruptly. "Martha, thank you for the drink. I'm sorry, I have to go; the boys just texted me. They're bringing in a witness for questioning."

Castle rose beside her. "In that case, Mother, we'll have a real drink to celebrate when I get home."

Beckett turned to Richard. "You don't have to come, Castle. I'll just be questioning the landlord about John Keeble's activity."

Richard shook his head. "Alexis and Ashley are going to a movie shortly. Plus, I am a dedicated member of society working to make the city safer."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Right. And it has nothing to do with Ryan telling you about the cake samples Jenny is bringing by later today."

Richard grinned at her. "Didn't even cross my mind."

Martha smiled at them. She reached for Beckett and enveloped her in a brief hug. The poor thing was slowly getting less awkward about them. "Thank you for all your help today, dear. I'm saving you a front row seat for our first production."

The detective smiled widely. "I can't wait, Martha. Thanks."

While Beckett moved to say goodbye to Alexis and Ashley, Richard came up to her, surprising her with a kiss to her cheek. "This place looks amazing, Mother. I'm proud of you."

Martha felt an unexpected lump in her throat. "Thanks, Kiddo," she managed to choke out.

She watched her son hurry to catch up with his detective. Despite her worry, she had watched him grow since he began to spend his days at the 12th precinct. He had an output for all his energy and creativity, and a good group of people to spend his days with. There was only so much time he could spend alone in his office writing.

She was interrupted from that train of thought by Alexis who held up her glass and said, "To Grams, the fulfilment of her dream, and all those aspiring actors she's going to shape. In the best possible way, of course." Martha smiled back and lifted her glass to meet Alexis'.

By this time next year, Martha hoped she would be right here, with her family, commemorating the first successful year of the Martha Rodgers School of Acting. And who knows what else they might have to celebrate by then?

_Author: kiki39_


	6. Ryan

**Ryan**

"Ahn dif un?" Castle asks around a mouthful of cake.

"Chocolate raspberry torte," Kevin reads off of the note card that's covered in Jenny's neat, bubble handwriting. "That's number four, right?"

Esposito glances at the numbers written on masking tape that's stuck to the bottom of the large Tupperware container. "Yeah, bro. You're good."

"Uh Gah," Castle says after shoveling another large forkful of chocolate raspberry torte into his mouth. His eyes are closed and his chin is tipped back like he's basking in the glow of the precinct's dim fluorescent lighting.

"You like that one?" Kevin asks. "Cause it's kind of fancy and I don't want to get too crazy."

"Dude," Esposito says, his fork halfway to his mouth. "It's cake. How crazy can you get?"

"Jenny wants a traditional wedding. This is the most important day of our lives and I–"

"Want it to be perfect," Esposito and Castle finish in unison.

"Whipped," Esposito adds.

"Married," Castle says.

"_Engaged_," Kevin corrects.

Castle scoffs. "Close enough."

Esposito snorts. Kevin is opening his mouth to tell them both to shut it when, over Castle and Esposito's shoulders, he notices Beckett making her way toward them. He opens his mouth to greet her but she puts a finger to her lips. He closes his mouth.|

Castle is waving his fork around and lecturing them on the way the frosting of the torte is _literally_ (seriously Esposito, here, try it) melting in his mouth when Beckett stops behind them and bends over, her mouth next to Castle's ear.

"I have some really fond memories of chocolate frosting," she murmurs.

Castle shoots out of his chair with a yelp. He spins around to face Beckett, and she plucks the fork out of his hand and puts it in her mouth. "Mmm," she says in a low voice. She turns the fork in her mouth and pulls it out slowly. "That's fantastic."

Kevin wants to laugh at the stunned look on Castle's face but resists. Esposito doesn't.

Castle recovers quickly and shoots a cocky leer in her direction. "I didn't know you dabbled in edible foreplay, Beckett."

Kevin looks over at Beckett with wide eyes, waiting for a threat. Instead she smirks and slides the fork into the breast pocket of Castle's jacket. "There are lots of things you don't know, Castle."

She turns on her heel and heads for her desk. Castle follows automatically.

Kevin shakes his head. "And you think I'm whipped."

Esposito snorts. "Dude, that is a whole new level of whipped."

Castle trips, and Beckett reaches out to steady him. Her hand lingers on his arm a little longer than necessary. He grins at her. She rolls her eyes. So does Kevin.

"He's tripping over his own damn _feet_," Esposito says.

"Jenny thinks they're cute."

Esposito turns his head slowly. Kevin shrinks under the stare. "She said it, not me."

"They ain't cute, bro." He looks at Castle and Beckett, who are eyeing each other pointedly. It's the _we're-talking-about -us-but-not-really_ look. "They're in denial."

"She's got motorcycle boy."

"Doesn't stop her from having eye sex with writer boy. Verbal sex, too."

"Lots of sex," Kevin sighs. "Just not the kind that matters."

They both take bites of cake and watch as Castle leans over the desk toward Beckett. Two years ago Beckett would've glared and scooted away. Today, she leans closer to him and quirks an eyebrow in challenge.

"I think I'm going to change my date in the pool," Esposito says.

Ryan looks at him. "To what?"

"Your wedding."

"My wedding?"

"Fancy clothes, dancing, booze, all that romantic crap." He waves his fork around and Kevin smirks at the thought of the look Lanie would have on her face right now if she was here. "Those two don't stand a chance."

"Maybe," Kevin says.

"Maybe?"

"_Heat Wave_ premiere."

Esposito nods in respect. "Touché, bro. May the best man win."

_Author: JillianCasey_


	7. Beckett

**Beckett**

There's a fluffy chunk of chocolate frosting at the corner of Castle's mouth, remnant of the cake sample he's just been trying. Kate reaches out, catches it with the tip of her finger, then puts her finger in her mouth before her brain kicks in and realises what she's just done. Sweet cacao explodes on her tongue and she struggles to keep her face neutral as Castle's eyes pop open while his own tongue subconsciously searches for more. It's not entirely clear whose lips he thinks he's licking, his or hers.

A thin bubble of delight fills her, quickly bursting as Josh comes to mind. If they really are going to have a chance, she's going to have to stop teasing Castle like this - a thought which makes her inexplicably sad. You die in a man's arms twice (okay, technically only holding his hand the second time, but still...) and some things between you are bound to change. She's let herself need him now and it's hard to shut that off even after the wires are pulled. As if she's the bomb, or they are, but instead of being stuck at zero they're still counting down.

'You might want to stop that before you start to drool,' she says, and he does, flicking his tongue back into his mouth, as if he's only just now realised what he's been doing. His face instantly goes into cookie-jar mode, eyes huge, lips clamped together, breath visibly held. It's adorable and annoying and everything about him that makes her feel tangled up inside and has since day one. She's holding her breath as well, and for a moment there's nothing but the two of them, someplace still and quiet she doesn't dare enter again but remembers all too well. Putting her head on his chest as consciousness slowly faded, expecting never to wake again. Holding his hand as everything else faded: sound, colour, fear, until there was only his face and death coming so fast there was no time to say goodbye, yet that last moment seemed to take forever, because they had each other and that was enough.

'Kate?' His expression changes rapidly from child to adult, a reflection of whatever must be written on her own. She had a poker face once, but she seems to have mislaid it these last couple of months.

'Don't call me that here,' she says, softening her voice to soften the blow. She drops her eyes to her keyboard and goes back to typing up Keeble's arrest report.

Fifteen minutes later she's deleted more than she's left, and what she's left is still full of errors she's too annoyed to go back and correct. She can feel his steady gaze like fingers on her flesh, only instead of poking and prodding to see what she's made of, as he used to do when he first started following her around, it's as if he's stroking her cheek, or sliding his fingers through her hair.

'Stop it,' she finally snaps.

'My dear Detective Beckett, am I making you nervous?'

'No, but you are being intensely creepy.'

'Still? I thought you'd be used to me by now.'

She looks up and he's casually holding his hand out, flat and horizontal. Two small silver-wrapped Hershey's kisses sit in the curve of his palm.

He says, 'Time flies, doesn't it?'

His voice is light, but there's something in his eyes that isn't. The tangles pull tighter as she looks down to the chocolates in his hand. She's typed the date all day trying to ignore its significance; trust Castle to make sure she remembered.

She takes one of the chocolates and slowly unwraps the paper, not trying to tease him this time, it's just that her blood is pounding a little too hard, making her fingers clumsy. So much has happened since he gave her one of these last year: homes lost and found, lovers found and lost, her mother...and him. More confusing now than ever, connecting wires she can't just yank away.

She lifts her gaze and catches him staring at her hands as if hypnotised by the shiny silver paper. 'Here,' she says, popping the chocolate in his mouth before he starts licking his lips again. Or worse, says more than he should. 'Consider yourself kissed.'

It's done before she realises she was going to do it, and for the second time her own surprise probably mirrors his. And then he suckles his chocolate lasciviously, pornographically, eyes rolling and head thrown back and behind him she sees Esposito and Ryan freeze with wedding cake samples halfway to their mouths, and the whole thing is just so horribly, unbelievably ridiculous that there's nothing else she can do but pop the other chocolate in her mouth and laugh.

_Author: fialka62_


	8. Montgomery

**Montgomery**

They think I don't see. That I'm stuck in the goldfish bowl of my office and oblivious to what is happening outside in my department. But even if the door is closed, the atmosphere out there radiates through the glass.

Like at Richard Castle's farewell party last year. The team was there when Beckett came in all flirty, asking to speak to Castle privately outside. We all watched in horror as the scene played out in front of us, like a car crash in slow motion. We couldn't look away from the crumpled wreckage that remained as she watched Castle walk away arm in arm with his ex-wife, her feelings betrayed in by the shattered expression on her face.

It's a look I know, because every time I see her the past is always there. The NYPD's failure to catch her mother's killer twelve years ago hasn't scarred me as much as her, obviously, but it has made me protective. She doesn't think she needs to be protected, and I used to agree, but what has occurred over the past year has made me think. And it has, mostly, been Richard Castle that has been there for her. I'm losing count of the times he's regaled us with his embellished heroic tales of saving her life. But it wasn't just Beckett he saved this time, it was a hell of a lot of New Yorkers, too. So as much as I sometimes want to smack him on the back of the head like the twelve year old he sometimes is, I'm glad he's here.

Over the past year Beckett and Castle's relationship has been as up and down as an oil company's share price but thank goodness it has come full circle and seems to be on a better path. Relationships are all about trust. I know Castle has always trusted Beckett with his life, but it has only just recently become a two way street. The progress they've made trying to solve her mother's murder has brought them closer than ever before. They are slowly becoming opposite sides of the same coin.

Unfortunately, cops don't get much down time because this city really doesn't sleep, especially when it comes to death. I'm proud to have each and every one of them working for me, and I think I've got the best. If you cut any of them they'd bleed NYPD blue. And after these two years with Kate Beckett, I'm pretty sure Richard Castle would as well.

So here I am completing a pile of reports while watching my team out in the bull pen, taste-testing wedding cake samples. Ryan has been instructed by his fiancée to get as many opinions as possible and I'm still waiting to give mine. You'd think that being Captain would give me first dibs, but it looks like Ryan and Esposito are keeping me out of the loop.

As for Castle and Beckett, they're huddled at her desk and look as close as I've ever seen them. Almost dying twice within twenty-four hours seems to have had a profound effect. They need these moments, this time to breathe.

_Author: Wig257_


End file.
